


I Win

by Exaggerated_Specificity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Worship, Bottom Sam, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Frottage, Grinding, Impala Sex, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Sibling Incest, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:43:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1408687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exaggerated_Specificity/pseuds/Exaggerated_Specificity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic takes place during Season 6 after Sam gets his soul back.  The memories of Sam's anguish are still fresh in Dean's mind and he is desperate to give his baby brother every ounce of pleasure he can to help make up for it.  They're outside in Bobby's driveway, against the Impala, and Dean wagers he can get Sam off without even unzipping his pants.  </p><p>It was inspired by <a href="http://merakieros.tumblr.com/">Andy's</a> amazing artwork, based on a prompt / request from <a href="http://nonastrega.tumblr.com/">Kristin </a>.</p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <a href="http://merakieros.tumblr.com/post/82011274169">
      <img/></a><br/></p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	I Win

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【授权翻译】I Win |by：Exaggerated_Specificity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1671890) by [whiyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiyn/pseuds/whiyn)



Sam’s huge hands slid hungrily over the tense muscle of Dean’s back as they kissed. Their mouths melded together, obscenely hot and urgent, both men trying to make up for lost time. Sam’s long fingers skittered along Dean’s worn t-shirt, down over the back pockets of his jeans. Dean’s throaty groan urged Sam on and he squeezed Dean’s ass, slotting their zippers together.

Fuck, it had been so long.

Sam stumbled back against the sun-baked fender of the Impala, pulling Dean up almost onto his tip toes. Their bodies were pressed together so tightly that Dean could barely breathe. Sam’s huge, possessive hands felt so good Dean was tempted to let Sam stay in charge but Dean had other plans. He pulled away, breathless, voice ragged and sex starved.

“Hey, didn’t I tell you before…? No touching. This is my show, baby boy. Put those hands somewhere you can keep’em to yourself, got it?” He smirked and cocked his eyebrow as Sam gave him a curt nod. “Good, now where were we?”

Dean’s mouth found Sam’s throat next, kissing it rough and sloppy, sucking and biting at the salty skin. He ran his hands down Sam’s arms, mapping the firm swell of his biceps and tawny hairs on his forearms before finally tracing the faint marks that still lingered around his brother’s wrists. The metal had bitten deep when Sam struggled against the handcuffs, powerless and desperate, as Death shoved his soul back inside. Dean’s blood ran cold every time he remembered Sam crying out, “NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!” The way Sam’s then-soulless eyes had still somehow overflowed with despair, pleading with Dean not to let it happen.

“DEAN, PLEASE!”

Sam’s aching voice yanked Dean out of those vile, still fresh memories. While the words were the same ones Sam had cried out while strapped to the bed in Bobby’s basement, this time they had a much different quality. Sam was still desperate. Only now he was needy, wanting, and hungry for Dean’s touch, begging for a much different release.

Dean used the painful images that raced through his mind to urge him on, fuel his need to erase that violation and replace it with pure bliss. Sam let Dean ease his bare torso back over the hood of the Impala and position his arms up over his head. Sam crossed his arms there and rested his head against them, tilting his head down to watch Dean as he dragged his tongue up the center of Sam’s sternum.

Sam’s body had changed some but he tasted exactly as Dean remembered. The subtle flavor of no-frills motel soap underneath the salty-sharp tang of Sam’s sweat made Dean salivate. He made another pass, this time letting his tongue follow the curve of his brother’s hip bone up, over the firm ridge of his oblique. Dean tongued over the same path again and again, swirling the tip against Sam’s baby-fine body hairs and taught, tan skin. He licked until Sam was writhing and gasping and his over-stimulated skin was pebbled with goose bumps. Licking until Dean could only taste his own spit and not Sam’s skin anymore.

“God, FUCK! Your fucking tongue, Dean…” Sam groaned, body writhing under Dean’s. Sam’s words trailed off into gibberish as Dean’s mouth repeated the path up the other side of Sam’s torso.

It was utterly intoxicating. The taste and feel of Sam on his tongue, Sam filling his nostrils, the rigid curve of Sam’s cock bucking up into Dean’s stomach through his jeans. Dean attacked with precision, knowing every button to push, every nerve to tweak. He managed to maintain a surgical focus even though his own desperation was escalating to match his brother’s.

Dean just wanted – no, needed – Sam everywhere, imprinted on every cell of his body. He wanted to consume and absorb every drop of Sam’s essence, wringing out every last sex-crazed whimper and moan, pampering Sam the way only he knew how until the world dissolved around them. Dean wanted to prolong these fleeting moments of pure, intense pleasure before Sam could slip like sand through his hands again.

He knew in the back of his mind that they could be caught like this. Bobby could come back at any moment and discover their long-kept secret. They had talked about telling Bobby before but Dean didn’t think that their surrogate father pulling up to find Sam splayed out like a porn star on the hood of the Impala with Dean sucking his nipples was exactly what Sam had in mind the last time they discussed it.

Instead of making him slow down, pull away, or maybe suggest somewhere more private for his indulgent session of body worship, Dean’s lizard brain took his thoughts as a suggestion to act upon. He found himself hitching Sam’s knee up to spread his thighs further and practically climbing on top of him to latch his lips around the dusky-brown bud of Sam’s nipple. Sam’s back arched and his breath stuttered at the sensation of Dean’s tongue flattening and swiping over his sensitive nipple slowly, repeatedly. Dean swirled the tip around the bumpy edge of Sam’s areola, flicking it to hardness.

“Dean – ah! Just… Fuckkk. Just suck it… pleaseee…” Sam’s shoved his chest up into Dean’s mouth, desperate for suction, pleading. Dean smirked around Sam’s stiff little peak. Instead of giving Sam what he wanted, he pulled back slightly to give a gentle nibble.

“Want me to suck your titties, Sammy? Gonna get all fuckin’ wet for me if I do?”

Dean dragged his hand up the front of Sam’s left thigh. He knew damn well Sam’s cock was already dripping like a leaky faucet under the pressure of his hips. He wanted to get Sam off just like this. Just sucking and nibbling and licking him, jeans still on, not nearly enough friction on that big pretty cock for it to even factor into the equation.

  
When his hand reached the waistband of Sam’s jeans, Dean kept going, dragging his fingernails up Sam’s stomach. He let his fingertips part as he let the scratch extend over Sam’s pectoral muscle, barely grazing the outer edge of his nipple. He lapped at the one under his lips, keeping it hot and slippery, begging for Dean’s mouth. Sam’s whimper was high pitched, almost pained, as both of his nipples were teased – one longing for the wet heat of Dean’s mouth, the other needy for a scratch or pinch.

“So fuckin’ sensitive. God, I fucking love it.” Dean kept his lips close to Sam’s tit as he whispered, letting his plush lips tease over the rock hard nub. Dean leaned back slightly, swiping his sopping wet tongue over Sam’s other nipple, leaving it juicy and wet before standing and letting his eyes devour his gorgeous brother.

He ran his hands down the underside of Sam’s firm biceps, admiring the graceful, strong curve of muscle before grazing the dark-haired hollow of his armpits. Dean’s gun-calloused hands came to rest over Sam’s pecs where he gently thumbed each nipple, slow and patient. Sam moaned loudly, arching his chest up into Dean’s hands again as he took Sam’s wet, stiff nipples between his fingers, squeezing and plucking them gently.

A litany of bitten-off moans and curses poured from Sam’s bright pink mouth as Dean began tugging rhythmically. Right-left, tug-squeeze, right-left, over and over. Sam kept his arms locked in place, crossed behind his head against the lacquer black of Baby’s hood but his hips bucked desperately, hungry for friction. Dean gave Sam’s left nipple one final, sharp tug and scratched down Sam’s flank. He teased at the waist of Sam’s pants again, dipping his fingers under the gap caused by the jut of Sam’s hip bone. Dean knew the addition of his fingers skirting ever closer to Sam’s needy erection would push him even closer to the edge.

"'S been too long, Sammy. Fuckin' missed you, you know that?"

He unbuckled Sam's belt slowly, making sure his brother felt every tug of the soft, worn leather. The buckle clanked quietly as it fell open, a sharp contrast against Sam’s hungry moans. His fingers teased at Sam’s treasure trail, slipping down into the damp heat of Sam’s jeans, seeking the precome flowing from the tip of his cock.

He knew Sam wanted him to unbutton his fly, pull him out of the hole in his boxers, and let that huge, heavy cock out into the open air. Instead, Dean’s fingers pressed under the elastic and found the head of Sam’s cock, circling the tip gently. The fabric was soaked against Dean’s knuckles and his fingertips slid greedily across Sam’s slit. The sounds escaping Sam’s throat were almost inhuman, just a chorus of over-stimulated, panting moans. Dean urged him on.

"Come on… Tell me how it feels. Lemme hear you. You’re so big now, Sam but you sound just like you did when you let me pop your cherry all those years ago. Such a hot little slut for my dick. Right, baby?"

Dean dragged his hand out of his brother’s jeans, up the patch of hair, swirling Sam’s slick over his clenching belly. He popped the fingers in his mouth, his own cock and balls clenching in the tight confines of his boxers from the explosion of Sam’s flavor on his tongue. He couldn’t let it go to waste.

He released Sam’s abused nipple and licked up the trail of precome he left behind, from the bulge of Sam's pubic bone to his belly button. The salty-sweet, earthy taste made Dean tremble. At this rate, he was gonna lose it before Sam.

“Gonna come for me, baby?” Dean’s words were thick and sweet, like Chantilly cream. The truth was Dean needed this even more than Sam did. He just needed to see Sam FEEL again, experience pleasure again. With the same intensity as he had before Lucifer, before Hell, before becoming a soulless automaton. Dean grabbed Sam’s hips and shoved their jean-clad erections together, grinding with rhythm and purpose.

“Come for me, Sam. Fuck, I need you to… Just let it all go.”

It was almost overwhelming for Dean, watching Sam lose himself to ecstasy. Dean needed to give him this. He wanted to give Sam everything he had. Let his love wash over him in its purest, most primal form, a substitute for words that always seemed to fail him.

Tears bit at the corner of Dean’s eyes as Sam’s body convulsed against his, sweat beading and flinging up off his skin as his body was rocked with the force of his orgasm. Sam let out a final shout, a bitten off cry of pure, flaming abandon. His arms flailed out palms scrambling sweat-slick against the windshield, grasping for purchase against Baby’s hood.

Dean could feel the change in texture as he rutted against his brother. The load Sam just shot into the front of his boxers caused a slick-squish as Dean’s last few thrusts triggered his own climax. He curled down over Sam’s still writhing body, hips bucking and thigh muscles trembling with tension.

“FUCK, Jesus – FUCK.” Dean gasped. It was all he could manage as his orgasm raced like fire through his veins.

Dean unloaded utterly, spurt after spurt, balls tensing violently until he was finally and truly drained. He collapsed, face pressed into the sweat drenched plane of Sam’s chest. He could hear his brother’s heart still thumping wildly against his ribcage and felt a huge, sated smile spread across his own sweaty face. A few seconds ago he was close to tears and now he was almost giddy, fighting the urge to pull Sam down into the rocks and dirt, giggling and wrestling like they used to when they were kids.

“I win.” Dean chuckled. Sam laughed too, still winded, body lax despite the uncomfortable position.

“Toldja I still had it, didn’t I? Didn’t even have to take your dick out. Top that.” Dean really hoped Sam wouldn’t back down from the challenge. There was a lot of lost time to make up for.


End file.
